


Small Town Loving

by echoes_of_another_life



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Jensen, Bottom Jensen Ackles, First Time, M/M, Romance, Schmoop, Top Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_another_life/pseuds/echoes_of_another_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared had no idea he had a librarian kink until he saw Jensen. With his argyle sweaters and wire rim glasses he’s hitting all of Jared’s kink buttons. He makes himself a fixture in the library. He erotically drapes himself around the library reading books and driving Jensen to distraction. Jared is everything he could want in a man tall, built, hot with sexy floppy hair and damn does he make reading look sexy! They make out in the stacks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Small Town Loving

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_masquerade

The glasses part was right, but the stereotypical image of a middle-aged woman her hair tied neatly in a bun, shushing people with one hand while stamping books with the other was definitely wrong. 

Although Jensen didn’t wear his glasses on a chain, he still wore them, wire rimmed, and sexy as hell. Or was it just that they framed the most gorgeous eyes Jared had ever seen? Mill Valley might not be the big city that Jared was accustomed to, but it definitely had its attractions, especially its six foot, green-eyed librarian. 

Jared stopped by the local coffee shop on his way to the library, and picked up a macchiato with an extra shot of espresso. He’d barely slept the night before due to the quiet, who knew the lack of noise could be so unsettling? Still, it was temporary, as soon as he’d packed up his grandmother’s house, and signed the contract of sale he could leave. Not that Mill Valley wasn’t a beautiful place to live, it just wasn’t for Jared. He found the familiarity of it off-putting, everyone knowing who you were. The teachers, neighbours, the mom-and-pop restaurants, and okay maybe the latter part was nice, but the lack of privacy was something Jared found claustrophobic, always had. Jared had only been in town a day or so before the local rumour mill had begun circulating, and it seemed that while merely a handful of people knew him, many others knew about him, and the fact that he was back in town. 

Jared finished his coffee on the short walk to the library, and tossed the empty cup into the waste bin, as he climbed the steps to the library entrance two at a time, hoping there’d be a computer free. Another disadvantage of small-town life, his grandmother’s house had no available Internet, and he couldn’t get a signal on his phone no matter how hard he’d tried. He’d even tried standing on a chair and waving his hands in the air a time or two, much to his own amusement.

Jared wanted to check recent comparable sales, and he needed to email his lawyer, the realtor, his mother. The list was endless. He entered the library and made his way to the computer section only to find all the computers were in use. Still, he had plenty of time, and it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be. He could meander through the fiction section while he waited, it had been a while since he’d read a book that wasn’t downloadable. He walked over to where Jensen was working and leaned one elbow on the counter. 

“Hi,” Jared said, and waited for Jensen to finish checking in the book he was holding. 

“Can I help you?” Jensen said, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose, causing Jared to lean in a little closer. 

“I’d like to book a computer,” Jared said, waiting as Jensen checked for a free time slot. 

“Eleven thirty okay?” Jensen asked, startled when Jared leaned across the counter to finger his argyle sweater.

“Is this lamb’s wool?” Jared said, caressing the material between thumb and forefinger. 

“Excuse me?” Jensen said, as Jared leaned in even closer, hot breath ghosting across Jensen’s cheek.

“It suits you,” Jared said, lowering his voice to almost a whisper as he looked Jensen in the face, and smiled. “Eleven thirty’s fine,” Jared finished, pulling back his hand and shoving it in his pocket, as if nothing untoward had happened.

Jared smiled to himself as he made his way to the fiction section, choosing a book before settling down in one of the more comfortable chairs to read. 

…

Jensen watched as Jared leaned back in the chair, and noted the way his jeans clung to his thighs as he lifted one leg to cross it over the other, and that wasn’t the only thing he’d noticed. 

Jensen had heard that old Mrs Padalecki’s grandson was in town, so he wasn’t at all surprised to see him enter the library Monday morning. He hadn’t seen Jared since they were kids, when Jared used to visit for the summer, but back then Jared had been kind of short, scrawny, and Jensen being a few years older, and shy at making friends had hardly paid him any mind. Now though, Jensen was hard-pressed to ignore the changes in Jared. For one, he was tall, taller than Jensen by several inches, slim, but apparently muscular beneath the black T-shirt that seemed to cling appreciatively to his shoulders and hug his trim waist. And boy was he handsome, gorgeous even, with his dark hair, longer than when he was a kid, now it touched his collar, a slight wave as it caressed the nape of his neck. Twice now Jensen had had to clench his fist, tempted to reach out and feel its softness. 

He watched as Jared read his book, his hair falling down to caress his forehead as he read, cradling the book between large, tanned hands, making it appear smaller somehow, his tongue peeking out between his slightly parted lips, as he turned the page. 

Definitely gorgeous Jensen thought, as Jared looked up, caught Jensen staring, and smiled, wide. Jensen immediately busied himself with checking in the rest of the books, glancing up occasionally as Jared went back to reading his own. 

…

Tuesday Jared found himself back in the fiction section as he waited for a computer to become available. He wandered between the stacks, listening for the sound of the creaky wheel on Jensen’s cart as he neared the aisle that Jared was perusing. 

“Hi,” Jared said, as Jensen turned the aisle, cart piled high with books that needed shelving. 

“Uh, hi,” Jensen replied. Excusing himself as he pushed past Jared, and began returning the books to their rightful place on the shelves.

Jared caught sight of an Alex Cross novel as Jensen returned it to the stacks, and reached out, fingers brushing up alongside Jensen’s as Jared caught hold of the book and pulled it back. 

“Sorry, I haven’t read this one yet,” Jared said, as Jensen sucked in a breath, face slightly flushed as Jared stepped closer, into Jensen’s space, and turned the book over to read the back cover. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother,” Jensen blurted, and immediately wanted to snatch back the words when he caught the pained look that crossed Jared’s face. He wanted to kick himself, but Jared had been so close, and he smelled so good, that Jensen had panicked, almost curled his fingers around Jared’s as they’d touched, prolong the moment, which was ridiculous, it was an accident. It's not like Jared intended for it to happen. 

“Thanks,” Jared said. 

Jensen nodded, lost for anything else to say.

Jared turned the book back over in his hand, and smiled at Jensen; all teeth and dimples as he stepped away. Jensen sighed inwardly, relieved that he hadn’t offended Jared, nor run his hands through Jared’s hair like he’d been sorely tempted to do. He finished shelving the books, alone in the aisle after Jared had found his usual chair and begun reading 

...

Wednesday Mrs Johnson had Jared’s macchiato waiting as he entered the coffee shop, he smiled, wished Mrs Johnson good morning and made his way through the town square. The sun already high in the sky despite the early hour, as Jared took the library steps two at time. This time there was a computer free. Jared emailed his mother, and logged off, made his way to the fiction section and chose himself a book. 

“You know, you can take them home,” Jensen said, as Jared settled in his usual chair, near Jensen’s workstation. 

“I like the scenery here,” Jared said, and offered a smile before returning to the book in his hand. 

Jensen frowned, wondered why Jared didn’t take a window seat if the scenery was all that important. A window seat would offer him a rising view of the mountains fringed by the green waters of the San Francisco Bay; as it was all Jared could see were rows of stacks and Jensen’s workstation. Not that Jensen was complaining because it meant he got to watch Jared read, head bent, hair falling down to kiss his forehead, catch him smile, and watch the way his dimples appeared as he became ever more engrossed in his book. 

Jensen sighed, caught himself staring, and flushed beet red when he heard old Mrs Polanski cough to get his attention. 

“I’d like to check these out,” Mrs Polanski said, handing Jensen several books with a knowing smile. 

Jensen nodded, taking the books from Mrs Polanski, and checking them out before loading his cart with the latest biographies that had arrived and making his way to the non-fiction area. Stopping by the fiction section on the way to return several books that had been left in the overnight drop box. He was busy placing a book on the shelf when he felt someone brush against him, pressing in close and tight. 

“Sorry,” Jared said as he stretched his arm out to reach for a book a little to the left of Jensen’s shoulder. 

Jensen sucked in a breath as he felt Jared’s weight settle against his back, just for a moment as Jared leaned in and grabbed for the book, Jared’s warm breath ghosting across Jensen’s cheek as Jared apologised for a second time. Damn, but Jared really did smell good. Jensen breathed in the woody aroma, and caught the hint of patchouli and citrus. He was a second away from turning around to face Jared when Jared pulled the book from the shelf and edged away. 

Jensen could still smell the outdoorsy scent of Jared’s cologne on his sweater when he locked up the library hours later, and made his way home. 

...

“You know, Jensen takes his coffee black,” Mrs Johnson said as Jared called into the coffee shop the next morning. 

“Excuse me,” Jared said. 

“He was running late this morning,” Mrs Johnson said by way of explanation. “I just thought, if you’re heading to the library…”

“Uh, sure,” Jared said, taking hold of the extra cup offered by Mrs Johnson, and nodding a good morning to Mrs Polanski, before stepping out in to the town square. 

Jensen was at his workstation checking over the books from the drop box, when Jared entered and approached.

“Coffee,” Jared said by way of greeting; brandishing the white cup in front of Jensen. Jensen’s eyes widened in surprise, and Jared noted the way his argyle sweater brought out their colour. The deep-plum making them seem a darker green than he’d first thought; and his cinnamon freckles more obvious.

“Thanks,” Jensen said, taking a long sip of the bitter brew and biting back a groan as it danced over his tongue. 

Jared watched as Jensen swallowed, a second sip, shy smile in place as he looked to Jared. 

“Sorry, first hit of the morning,” Jensen said, embarrassed as he placed the coffee cup on his desk, away from the books. 

Jared nodded, fascinated as Jensen licked the taste of coffee from his bottom lip. “Is there something I can help you with?” Jensen asked. 

“God yes,” Jared wanted to say. He wanted to lean in and taste for himself, caught himself doing almost that. He reached for one of the books on Jensen’s desk at the last second, and smiled. “Mind if I take this?” Jared said.

“Sure, just let me check it in,” Jensen replied, flushing a crimson red. 

Jared caught the title of the book as Jensen handed it back, and coughed to cover his embarrassment. _A hundred and forty page guide on how to attract the man of your dreams_ , Jared read. Well, it wasn’t James Patterson, but it had to be better than shocking the entire library, not to mention Jensen by kissing the librarian. 

Friday Jared avoided the library. He really needed to make a start on packing up his grandmother’s things, deciding what to give to good will, and what to ship home to his mother. He skipped lunch in favour of sorting through his grandmother’s attic, stopping only when the dust and mothballs became too much to bear, grabbing an apple and a bottle of water from the kitchen as he made his way to the garden for some much-needed fresh air. 

The garden was a chaotic blend of colours, and yet; it had a perfectly natural feel. The main part of the garden anchored by roses and climbers, and old-fashioned hollyhocks in shades of orange and yellow. Jared watched as a butterfly flitted between the seas of purple coneflowers and took a long swallow from his water bottle. He felt a slight pang of regret, his grandmother had been a keen gardener, and it showed, and there was no doubt that the house would find a quick sale once it was placed on the market, and Jared was surprised to feel a little saddened at the prospect. 

It wasn’t as if he could actually move in, his work was in the city, which granted was only a fifteen-minute commute, but he had a life, a good life elsewhere and there was nothing to keep him in Mill Valley, nothing but memories and nostalgia. He watched as another butterfly landed on the green trick dianthus the same shade as Jensen’s eyes. Jared shook off the thought and made his way back into the house.

Saturday came and Jared had every intention of emailing the realtor to place the house on the market. He entered the library to find it quieter than usual, only one computer in use, as Jared sat down to read his emails. That’s when he heard it, someone singing. Jared logged off the computer and followed the sound, stopping outside the children’s room to peer through the door to see Jensen, wearing jeans, and a blue argyle sweater, guitar in hand as he entertained the children. 

Gone was the shy, almost embarrassed look Jared was used to seeing whenever he spoke to Jensen, now Jensen looked, laid back at ease as he sang, captured the imagination and attention of the children, and Jared stood transfixed in the doorway, his reason for being at the library completely forgotten in the sound of Jensen’s voice.

Jared continued watching for another ten minutes, until Jensen announced his last song, and only then did Jared move away. Instinct telling him that Jensen would be embarrassed to know he had an adult audience. Jared made his way to the exit, realising too late that he hadn’t emailed the realtor, it could wait until Monday.  
…

Jared spent Saturday night at a local bar and grill, one he’d discovered by accident tucked away in a little brick alley. He was making his way to the dining area when he caught sight of Jensen, as he walked out the back exit. Jared followed, surprised to see several customers surrounding an outdoor fire. The weather was warm, but the breeze rolling in from the bay made it seem cooler as Jared scanned the small group of tables for Jensen, and spotted him sitting alone, menu in hand. 

“Hi,” Jared said, coming to a stop at Jensen’s table. 

“Hi,” Jensen echoed, and waited for Jared to speak. 

“I saw you, and just… I’m new in town, and you’re a familiar face, and I wondered what you’d recommend,” Jared said, by way of conversation.

“The cowboy rib-eye is good,” Jensen said. “Only if you have a large appetite mind.” 

“Thanks, I’ll just…” Jared hooked his thumb in the direction of the restaurant, casual as he looked back to Jensen and the vacant seat beside him. 

“Would you like to join me?” Jensen asked. “Unless you have plans, or company, which you probably have. I didn’t mean to presume,” Jensen rambled. 

“I’d love to,” Jared said, pulling out the vacant chair and sitting down opposite Jensen. 

Jared watched the way the firelight danced across Jensen’s glasses, making his eyes appear less green, more golden, and took a long swallow of his beer as soon as it arrived at their table. He waited as Jensen made conversation with the waiter, obvious from the tone that they were friends, and nodded when Jensen asked if he was ready to order. 

Jared ordered the rib-eye with a side order of fries, and coleslaw, much to Jensen’s surprise. 

“I’m a growing boy,” Jared said, as he noticed Jensen’s raised eyebrow. 

“You’re not tall enough?” Jensen smiled, deep lines appearing either side of his eyes, lines, which probably signified years of laughter; of joy, Jared thought and smiled back, transfixed. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It has its uses,” Jared said. “I’m usually where friends meet if someone gets lost among a crowd.” 

Jensen threw back his head and laughed, proving Jared right; it was higher pitched than Jared expected, a full belly laugh that Jared found as desirable as hell. Sexy eyes, glasses, laugh, and he could sing. The man even made argyle sweaters look hot. Jared found himself totally smitten. Even more so as the night progressed and Jensen continued to both delight and intrigue the hell out of him. 

Jensen insisted on paying his half of the bill, despite Jared’s protests. It wasn’t as if it was date, and even if it was, which is wasn’t, Jensen would have insisted on paying his share. 

“But I invited you?” Jensen said, reaching inside his pocket for his wallet. 

“You can pay next time,” Jared said, folding a hefty tip, along with the cost of the meal into the small leather wallet containing the bill. 

Jensen paused, looked across at Jared and watched the way Jared smiled, dimples out in full force and took a breath. He could continue to argue, or he could accept Jared’s offer, meaning he’d have to see Jared again, and he really wanted to see Jared again. “Okay,” Jensen said, returning his wallet to his pocket and smiling back at Jared, half tempted to lean across the table and kiss him.

…

Jared had a bounce in his step as he entered the coffee shop Monday morning to find Mrs Johnson in deep conversation with Mrs Polanski, both breaking apart abruptly as Jared approached the counter. 

“Morning,” Jared said, as Mrs Johnson handed him his coffee, smiling at a red-faced Mrs Polanski, and half wondering what he’d interrupted as he ordered a second cup for Jensen. 

“Ladies,” Jared said as he stepped out into the morning sunshine, and whistled his way across the town square to the library.  
…

Jensen watched as Jared approached, coffee in hand, and almost groaned his thanks as Jared passed him the cup, fingers brushing up against Jared’s in the exchange.

“The computers are free,” Jensen said by way of greeting, half hoping Jared would choose a book to read instead just for the simple pleasure of watching him read. “Or there’s the new Alex Cross novel if you’d rather?” Jensen said, hoping to tempt Jared into staying. Jensen took a sip from his coffee, and waited, licked his bottom lip, and noted the way Jared’s eyes darkened, pupils dilating as Jared tracked the movement. 

“Thanks, I have emails to check,” Jared said, forcing himself to step away, as he made his way over to the computer section. 

Jensen watched him go, marvelled at the width of Jared’s shoulders, his white T-shirt making his outdoor tan appear darker, his black jeans clinging to his muscular thighs as he made short work of the distance between Jensen’s workstation and the computer section. Jensen watched, as Jared seated himself at one of the computers, adjusting the monitor to suit his height as he bent his head, dark hair falling down to caress his forehead. Jensen’s hand itched to brush it back. 

Jensen sighed, looking away reluctantly as he scanned the order sheet on his own computer. It wouldn’t do to spend his morning daydreaming about Jared Padalecki, having already devoted most of his Sunday doing exactly that. Especially his morning shower, Jared’s name mingling with the warm spray as he’d come, hot and hard.

Jensen spent the next hour working at his desk, processing orders, and sending out reminder letters for overdue books, not that there were many. He collected the morning’s returns ready for shelving and made his way into the stacks, making a mental note to oil the wheel on his cart, once again. He was reaching to return a book to its rightful place on the top shelf when Jared approached

“Here, let me,” Jared said, taking the book from Jensen’s hand and placing it on the shelf, stepping back to allow Jensen room to breathe.

Jensen could feel the heat radiating from Jared even as Jared gave him space. There weren’t that many people who could make Jensen appear small, Jensen much used to being the taller one among his friends, but Jared had several inches on Jensen, was well-built, with his wide shoulders, and then there was the gorgeous hair, and the way he looked reading a book, quiet, peaceful, and sexy as hell.

“Is there something you need?” Jensen said, turning to face Jared, only to have his back slammed up against the stack as Jared crowded in. Jensen’s eyes were level with Jared’s mouth as he watched the flush of arousal creep up Jared’s neck and into his cheeks. Jensen wet his lips in anticipation, heard Jared’s sharp intake of breath. Jared leaned in closer, and Jensen’s entire being was attuned to Jared’s every movement.

“Just this,” Jared whispered across the short distance separating him from Jensen, the words breathed across Jensen’s skin, wrapping him in a heat that settled low in his stomach. 

Jensen made eye contact with Jared, caught the intent in Jared’s hazel eyes seconds before Jared lowered his head and claimed Jensen’s mouth. 

The kiss was gentle, undemanding, almost a request, as Jensen moaned his approval, hands coming up to Jared’s shoulders, sliding past, fingers aching for purchase, carding through Jared’s hair, and damn it really did feel as soft as Jensen imagined it would. He moaned louder, opened his mouth and as he did the kiss exploded. 

Jensen felt the hard press of the stack at his back as Jared pushed in, hip to hip. The heat of Jared’s thighs burning through the soft layers of denim, as Jared slanted his mouth over Jensen’s and kissed him, harsh and demanding. 

Jensen tugged on Jared’s hair, fingers tangling in its length and kissed Jared back, as he felt Jared’s hand slide across his hip, thumb brushing against Jensen’s cock as it throbbed, pulsed pre come into the soft cotton of his shorts. Jensen moaned, slammed his hips forward against Jared’s, denim riding against denim, Jensen’s cock hardening painfully as Jared reached for him, fingers clutching, tugging at Jensen’s belt loops in an attempt to get closer. The noises Jared made were almost Jensen’s undoing. Short ragged puffs of air that were breathed into Jensen’s mouth, and danced across his tongue. 

“Wanted this,” Jared groaned, easing back slightly to look at Jensen, and felt Jensen’s hand at the back of his neck, fingers massaging heat into Jared’s skin, as Jared lowered his head once more, and pushed his tongue into Jensen’s mouth. 

“Jared,” Jensen groaned when he felt Jared’s arms slide around his waist, hands snaking downward, fingers splayed against Jensen’s lower back, sliding into the waistband of Jensen’s jeans to push against his ass, Jared’s knee wedged tight and high between Jensen’s thighs.

“Jared,” Jensen said again, urgent, felt Jared groan as Jensen dragged his mouth free, sucked in air through his teeth, before teasing across a small mole to the right of Jared’s lips. Jensen lingered, mouthed at the tender spot before continuing a path across Jared’s cheek, his jaw, up to the shell of Jared’s ear. “We’re not alone,” Jensen groaned, the heat of his breath ghosting across Jared’s ear. 

Jared shuddered against Jensen, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stepped back. His limbs heavy, jeans uncomfortably tight, and stained wet with his own arousal. He glanced down, grimaced; fingers digging in against his palm, making crescent-shaped welts as he fought the urge to pull Jensen back in. 

“Shit,” Jared cursed, and watched as Jensen straightened his glasses, face crimson, as he looked up at Jared. 

“Sorry it’s, just…” Jensen peered around the stacks, satisfied that they hadn’t been seen and breathed a sigh of relief. “I should probably get back to work,” Jensen finished, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from Jared’s forehead, blushing an even deeper shade of red as he snatched his hand away, and stepped out from between the stacks.

…

“What time do you finish?” Jared asked as he stopped by Jensen’s workstation on his way out. 

“Not until six,” Jensen replied. 

“Want to catch a movie?” Jared asked, and smiled as Jensen nodded. “Good, I’ll see you at six,” Jared said, a spring in his step as he left.

Jared made his way back to his grandmother’s house. He really needed to stop calling it that, but couldn’t bring himself to call it his, even though technically, until it had been sold, it was, having been bequeathed to him by his grandmother. Jared was sure she had intended for him to move in, but really, it just wasn’t feasible. He wasn’t even sure why he was entertaining the notion. He had an appointment for Friday with the realtor, having already agreed on the appraisal, and Jared was certain that once he returned home and gained some perspective he’d see how impractical the idea was. 

He spent the afternoon packing and labelling boxes. Some to be shipped home, others for good will, and even more were headed for recycling; only stopping a little before five to shower and change. Jared dressed in dark-blue jeans and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow to reveal tanned forearms and a smattering of dark hair. He and Jensen could grab something to eat before the movie. Jared left his car and took the short walk back to the library. That was something he’d miss about Mill Valley, the lack of traffic congestion, and everything within walking distance. The scenery wasn’t bad either.

Jensen was locking up the library when Jared approached, wearing the same jeans as earlier, and a black T-shirt. 

“Hi,” Jared said, giving into temptation and kissing Jensen, briefly on the mouth, and pulling away before Jensen had time to respond. 

“Hi,” Jensen replied, shyly. 

“I thought we could eat before the movie,” Jared said, taking hold of Jensen’s hand and twining their fingers as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and not a first date. 

“Tony’s Pizza House is good,” Jensen replied, glancing down at their joined hands. “It’s just across the square from the cinema.” 

“Lead the way,” Jared said, giving Jensen’s hand a squeeze as they passed Mrs Johnson’s coffee shop, and rounded the corner. 

…

“So what do you do?” Jensen asked as he reached for his second slice of stuffed-crust pizza. 

“I write for a newspaper,” Jared said, and went on to tell Jensen how he was planning a book. 

Jensen watched as Jared talked, and became more animated, his smile widening, dimples forming, as he moved his hands enthusiastically through the air, as Jensen listened, entranced. Jared talked about his love of writing, thrumming his fingers on the table as he told Jensen how he enjoyed the flow of fingers on a keyboard, the clacking of the keys as he created something that never existed before, added substance to the universe. 

Jensen told Jared how he loved old books, writing with pen and paper, scratching out words, and seeing the tangible proof of ink on a page, manifesting pure thought in physical form, and how his penmanship changed depending on his mood. Some days it would be neat and proper, others huge and sloppy, smudged even something Jensen could always tell, no matter how much time had passed, his mood as he’d written something. 

Jared smiled as Jensen finished what he was saying and took a long swallow of cold beer, draining what was left in the bottle. 

“So what movie do you want to see?” Jensen said, changing the subject when it became clear that Jared liked the faster more modern way of life, while Jensen much preferred to slow things down a little. It seemed they both loved similar things, just at a different pace. 

They settled on a showing of ‘Saving Private Ryan’ even though both had seen it, Jensen several times. Jensen’s hand held securely in Jared’s as they walked back across the town square to the cinema. 

“Aren’t we a little old for this?” Jensen asked as Jared bought several packs of gummi bears, and took a seat in the back row. His smile lost to the darkness as the lights dimmed and the movie began, Jared’s arm a comfortable weight around Jensen’s shoulder throughout the movie, massaging heat into Jensen’s neck and shoulders. 

Jared excused himself halfway through to use the bathroom, returning and taking his seat next to Jensen a few minutes later, Jared’s hand reaching out to rest against Jensen’s thigh. Jared’s touch burning through denim, as it ghosted higher. 

Jensen caught his breath, as Jared’s hand came to a stop inches from Jensen’s cock, squeezed Jensen’s thigh, as Jensen breathed out, tempted to push up into Jared’s hand. Instead, sliding lower in his seat and stifling a groan as Jared’s hand made contact with his cock, pressed down as Jensen tilted his hips in response, tried and failed to concentrate on the movie. He strained to hear the dialogue over the sound of his own heartbeat, his rapid breathing, but it was all Jensen could hear, lost in the feeling of heat and touch. 

“Jensen?” Jared said, as Jensen shifted his hips, pushed up into Jared’s hand. 

“Yeah,” Jensen said, voice hoarse.

Jared heard the strain in Jensen’s voice, the need, and cursed under his breath, pushed himself to his feet, dragging Jensen up, and out of his chair, as he edged his way between the seats, desperate for an exit, someplace quiet, private. He pushed through the foyer, slightly slower pace as he reached the door and shoved it open. 

Jared tugged on Jensen’s hand as soon as their feet hit the sidewalk, pulling him in and kissing him hard. “Christ, Jensen,” Jared groaned, shoving Jensen back against the wall and pressing in, close and tight, slanting his mouth over Jensen’s jaw, his cheek, teeth grazing the outer shell of Jensen’s ear. “Where do you live?” 

“Too far,” Jensen moaned, shoving one hand in his pocket, hissing out a breath when his hand came into contact with his cock. He fumbled for the keys to the library, tugging them free of his pocket and brandishing them in the air with a smile. 

“You’re serious?” Jared panted, as Jensen took his hand once more and pulled him across the town square toward the library, fumbling the key in the lock in his haste to open the door. 

“Stay there,” Jensen said as he keyed in the alarm code, waited for it to beep and nodded for Jared to follow, pushing him down into his usual chair once they were safely inside, Jared’s breathing ragged, and as desperate as his own. 

Jensen had never been so turned on in his life, or brazen, but he wanted Jared, had wanted him since the minute he’d seen him step inside the library, with his beautiful smile, and gorgeous hair, and hands, his huge, capable hands. 

Jensen toed off one shoe, and then the other, as Jared unbuckled his belt, unfastened his jeans, tilted his hips to shove them down past his thighs, and oh god, Jared’s hands weren’t the only things that were huge. 

Jensen wet his lips, and stepped forward, as he dragged the buttons on his jeans free, first one then another, followed by a third, as he pushed them past his hips, all the way until they bunched at his feet. Stepping out of them as he came to a stop in front of Jared, straddled Jared’s hips as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, and pressed up behind his balls pushed one finger knuckle-deep and pulled out.

Jensen sucked in a breath, needing more, something. He glanced down at Jared’s cock, thick and hard, pre come leaking from the head, and smiled. He stroked his fingers over Jared’s slit, collecting the wetness and using it to ease in a second finger inside his hole, pushing down to meet the third. 

“Christ,” Jared cursed as Jensen lifted up, and eased himself down onto Jared’s cock, inhaled deep, steady breaths as he pushed through the burn. 

“Oh God,” Jared moaned, as Jensen clenched tight around him, almost too tight, rhythmic spasms that massaged Jared’s cock. He waited till Jensen pushed down, all the way till he was seated in Jared’s lap. Only then did Jared move.

“Ready?” Jared asked, and watched as Jensen nodded, bottom lip caught between his teeth, green eyes dark with arousal. 

Jared canted his hips upward, slow and steady, giving Jensen time to adjust, pulled back, and thrust in, harder than before, and heard Jensen’s breath hitch approvingly, as Jared thrust up, all the way to the base. Circled his hips, once and again, slid his arms around Jensen, and cupped his ass cheeks, parting them as he lifted Jensen.

“Good?” Jared asked, as Jensen began to move, hands resting on Jared’s shoulders to take his weight as he lifted, and then slammed back down. 

“So good,” Jensen said, fingers carding through the soft length of Jared’s hair to tangle at his nape as he pushed his knees into the cushioned chair and lifted up, circled his hips as Jared had done, and pushed back down. His mouth open, breath hot against Jared’s cheek, and moaned, a deep-throated sound of pure pleasure, as Jared wrapped his hand around Jensen’s cock and fisted upward. 

Just when Jensen thought, it couldn’t get any better, Jared shoved Jensen’s T-shirt up, and latched onto his nipple, circled it with his tongue, teeth grazing over the hardened nub, as Jensen arched his back, pushing against Jared’s mouth. He slammed down onto Jared’s cock, and felt Jared’s approval in the vibration of sound that almost tipped him over the edge. Jared rolled his hips, easing away only to push back harder, and harder still, closer until Jensen was sure he was going to come. 

“Jared,” Jensen hissed, his head falling forward, mouth meshing with Jared’s, tongues seeking and finding, breath mingling, hot, and ragged as Jared’s cock bumped up against the spot where Jensen wanted, needed it to be. 

Jared watched the flush creep across Jensen’s chest, up to his neck, his face, darkening the freckles across his cheekbones. He thrust up, harder and watched Jensen arch his back. His head thrown back, as he cried out, warm come coating Jared’s fingers and stomach. 

Jared thrust upward, fast, sharp, rapid snaps of his hips, his shout of pleasure mingling with the echo of Jensen’s as he came, long and hard. 

…

Jensen lowered his head, his forehead against Jared’s and waited until his breathing returned to normal, he really hadn’t thought this through, didn’t want to move, but had to. They couldn’t spend the night at the library, much as Jensen just wanted to curl around Jared and sleep, for a month.

“One of us should really move,” Jensen said, and felt Jared nod his head, even as he remained where he was, stroked his hands up Jensen’s back to rest against his shoulders. 

Jensen pressed a kissed into Jared’s hair as he took a deep breath and lifted up, and away from Jared, getting to his feet reluctantly. His limbs heavy, thighs aching as he reached for his pants, shoving his feet inside and pulling them up. He watched as Jared slid off his jeans and shorts, using his shorts to wipe the come from his hands and stomach before putting his jeans back on, carefully pulling them up. 

“Who said romance is dead?” Jared said, breaking the silence, as he shoved his soiled shorts into the pocket of his jeans. 

Jensen huffed out a laugh, and made his way to the door, Jared following behind as Jensen set the alarm, and locked up the library. Glad that the town square was in darkness. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Jared said, taking Jensen’s hand and waiting for Jensen to lead the way. 

Jensen wasn’t at his workstation the next morning. Jared followed the sound of Jensen’s creaky cart, and found him in the fiction section, busy shelving books. 

“Hey,” Jared said, walking up to Jensen, Jared’s thumbs ghosting across Jensen’s cheek as he framed Jensen’s face with his hands, lowered his head and kissed him softly on the mouth. 

“Hey,” Jensen said, raising his hands to Jared’s shoulders, fingers carding through Jared’s hair, twining at his nape as he kissed Jared back, and opening his mouth for Jared’s tongue. They broke apart as Mrs Polanski stepped between the stacks, seemingly as much a fixture in the library as Jared was becoming. Jensen flushing a crimson red as Mrs Polanski smiled and wished them both good morning. Jared reaching for a book, and nodding his head, as he made his way to his usual chair, and Jensen went back to shelving books. That moment set the tone for the rest of the week, Jared spending his mornings in the library, stealing kisses wherever possible, his afternoons spent packing up his grandmother's house.

By Thursday, Jared was all but done, save for the kitchen, and the bedroom he was using, the house no longer seeming like a home. He’d spoken to the local charity who were calling by that afternoon to collect everything Jared had marked for good will. Mr Peterson from the antique store was calling by Friday morning to collect several items of furniture, the rest to be shipped home to his mom. 

The house was empty now, devoid of all that made it a home. Dust was beginning to settle. Nothing left to mark the passing of a life so recently ended.

Jared took a deep breath and opened the door to his favourite room, the one with the eastern view. He’d always imagined it as a study, a place to write, with its view of the garden stretching toward the mountains and the bay. He leaned against the window, and sighed, shaken from his reverie as a truck pulled up outside the house.

Jared checked his watch as the last of the boxes were loaded onto the truck. It was a little after four, time enough to shower and change and meet Jensen at the library.

…

Jensen couldn’t stop staring at Jared’s chair. The past week he’d imagined Jared sitting there, head bent over a book, tongue caught between his teeth as he turned the pages. Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about Jared, half naked, jeans tugged down around his knees, cock hard. Whenever he looked up from his workstation, he imagined Jared, eyes hooded, cheeks stained red with arousal, watching Jensen, waiting for Jensen to straddle his thighs. 

Jensen bit his lip, as the last of the library’s patrons approached his desk, books in hand, ready to check out. He smiled to himself as he processed the books and handed them back. It had only been a little under two weeks since Jared had first visited the library, but already he’d become a permanent fixture, of both the building and Jensen’s life. He imagined Jared writing his book, calling in to the library of a morning to check his email, spending the afternoon writing, and his evenings… 

Jensen imagined a whole other host of ideas for Jared’s evenings, most of which involved one, or both of them being naked. 

Jensen logged off his computer and shut it down, fingers ghosting over the back of Jared’s chair as he passed, checking that everyone had left before setting the alarm and locking up the building. Jared already making his way across the square as Jensen pocketed the keys, and walked down the steps to meet him.

“Hi,” Jensen said, smile a mile wide. 

“Hey,” Jared replied, bending his head to kiss Jensen, soft, and gentle a mere brush of his lips before pulling back. “So what do you want to do?” 

“I thought I’d cook,” Jensen said, as Jared took his hand, curled his fingers around Jensen’s, Jared’s thumb stroking across the back of Jensen’s hand, up and over his knuckles. 

“Sounds good.”

Jensen had left his car at home, preferring to walk the twenty-minute journey to work during the summer months, taking the east route past Redwood Park, sometimes walking through the park itself, settling beneath a redwood or sequoia tree to read a book, as the Roosevelt elk grazed nearby. He smiled at Jared as he led the way, marvelling at the vast array of colours along the route, both quiet, content in each other’s company, Jensen stopping occasionally to point out a favourite spot. 

“This is me,” Jensen said, as they neared a group of houses. Jensen pointing to a house similar to Jared’s grandmother’s, but smaller, complete with a front garden that curved toward a small grove of trees, and a vast array of daylilies; their striking green gongs swaying in the evening breeze. Jared watched as a bee flitted between the open spaces from flower to flower, and smiled. 

“What?” Jensen said, as he unlocked the front door.

“Just, it suits you?” Jared said, following Jensen inside, both kicking off their shoes as they crossed the threshold. 

Jensen made his way to the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator, taking out two bottles of beer and handing one to Jared, before collecting the ingredients for a chicken salad. “Make yourself at home,” Jensen said, as Jared leaned against the breakfast counter, and took a long swallow from his bottleneck, watching as Jensen moved confidently around the kitchen. 

“Tell me about your book,” Jensen said as they took their seats at the small kitchen table.

Once again, Jensen found himself captivated as Jared came alive, talking with his hands, and facial features as he described the tale about two brothers, travelling the back roads, from town to town hunting evil. 

“Saving people, hunting things, the family business,” Jared finished.

“So when do you plan to make a start?” Jensen asked. 

“As soon as I get home,” Jared said. 

“Home?” Jensen asked. 

“Yeah, I have an appointment with the realtor tomorrow,” Jared said. “It shouldn’t take long to sell the house.”

“You’re selling?” Jensen said, both shocked and hurt. 

Jared nodded, was about to take another swallow of beer when he caught sight of Jensen’s stricken expression. “You thought I was moving in?” Jared said, more a statement than a question. 

“You mean all this time, you, and me,” Jensen said, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. “You were planning to leave?” 

“We can still see each other,” Jared said by way of placation. 

“What, on weekends when you’re not writing,” Jensen said. “How about every other Sunday?” 

“Jensen please.” Jared pushed himself to his feet and stepped around the table towards Jensen, stopping in his tracks when Jensen took a step back. 

“All this time,” Jensen whispered. “You could have said.”

“I thought you knew,” Jared said. 

“You think I would have… the other night?” Jensen shook his head, collecting the dishes from the table as a means of avoiding Jared’s eyes. 

“Jensen?” Jared reached out to take hold of Jensen’s hand as he reached across for Jared’s plate, Jensen snatching back his hand as if Jared had burned him.

“I think I had better leave,” Jared said. 

“I’ll call you a cab,” Jensen replied, his back to Jared, head down as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone. 

…

It was getting dark as Jared unlocked the door to his grandmother’s house, his footsteps on the wooden floor echoing through the empty rooms. The newly minted moon casting shadows across the barren walls, making the house look almost abandoned, unloved. 

Jared kicked off his shoes and made his way to the kitchen on silent socked feet. The quiet slosh of scotch into glass, his only company as he made his way upstairs to pack.

He’d planned to leave first thing Monday morning, after his appointment with the realtor, and hopefully spending the weekend with Jensen, but now he doubted Jensen would want to speak to him never mind spend time with him. Jensen was right, he should have said he had no plans to stay. Made it clear from the outset. Instead, he’d presumed, thought it obvious, he was only visiting to wrap up his grandmother’s affairs. 

Jared poured himself another scotch, and began packing what few clothes he’d brought with him.

…

Jared woke up to a half-empty bottle of scotch and a pounding headache. He climbed out of bed and padded across the hall to the main bathroom and turned on the shower. Kicking off his shorts as he stepped under the spray, both hands braced against the tiled wall as he lowered his head under the hot spray and groaned. He was tempted to stay right where he was, but needed to make himself half-way presentable for the realtor. 

Jared was slamming cupboard doors as the realtor arrived, his headache subsiding thanks to the Tylenol and two bottles of water, but what he really needed was coffee, and there wasn’t a bean in the house. He smiled despite his mood as he opened the door, shaking hands as he invited the other man in. 

By Friday afternoon, Jared had agency disclosures, listing agreements and seller disclosures ready for his lawyer to look over, before he signed any paperwork. He shook hands with the realtor once more and went back to the kitchen in search of coffee, sure he’d simply missed it first time around, opening and closing the same cupboards before giving up and heading into town.

“Afternoon,” Jared said to Mrs Polanski as he crossed into the town square, surprised when she merely nodded, eyes forward as she passed. Jared turned to watch her as she walked away, shoulders stiff with silent disapproval. He shook his head and continued to the coffee shop for his usual macchiato, again with an extra shot, which he had to ask for as Mrs Johnson busied herself at the counter, barely acknowledging Jared’s presence.

By Friday evening, it became apparent that the whole town knew Jared was selling his grandmother’s house and leaving Mill Valley. Even Tony from the pizza house. Jared suspected the issue being less to do with Jared leaving Mill Valley and more to do with him leaving Jensen. 

He did try speaking to Jensen, but it seemed the library had after hour’s events on the first Friday of every month, and the night’s event was a slam poetry competition, which Jared hadn’t wanted to interrupt. Instead, he left a letter for Jensen with his home address, email, and phone number at his workstation. 

By Saturday morning, Jared was driving across the Golden Gate Bridge on his way home. 

…

Jared waited in line at the coffee shop Wednesday morning, checked his watch, wondering how much longer he’d have to wait, and if they’d get his order right this time. 

Monday he’d been late, and Tuesday, there was no extra shot of espresso. Five minutes later, he was at the head of the line. He ordered a macchiato and checked his watch for the second time, hoping traffic wouldn’t be busy, he hated being late. As it turned out, the barista called his order and he made it to the newspaper with a few precious minutes to spare.

By lunchtime, he had the headache to end all headaches and he was tired. Even after closing his bedroom window at night, to shut out the noise from the city he found it hard to sleep. 

He swallowed two Tylenol, and took a drink from his bottle of water, and went back to writing his article, the clanking of the keys doing nothing to soothe him.

It had gone seven by the time Jared made it home, traffic had been a nightmare, and he still hadn’t found the time to start work on his book, most nights he brought work home with him because he’d been too distracted by the noise of the newspaper offices to focus. Jared told himself he just needed to adjust, after being away, even if it had been for only two weeks.

The letter arrived Friday morning. He’d expected, hoped for call, or an email, but then remembered how much Jensen loved pen to paper. Jared opened the envelope, the handwriting small, neat and proper at the beginning of the letter, getting larger, loopier toward the end and Jared wondered what that said about Jensen’s mood. 

Jared read the letter for a second time, there was no forwarding address, no email, and no number attached, just Jensen wishing him well. It felt very much like good-bye. 

Jared thought about writing back, but really, what could he say? That he was sorry, that he’d like to see Jensen again when he had a weekend free? Which, of course, was exactly what Jensen had feared would happen. He was at a loss. He’d hired a cleaning service to keep the house dust free, and a gardener to tend the garden; but he was yet to sign the papers that would put the house on the market.

It took almost a month for Jared to find his routine again, and to be able to sleep, but even then it was interrupted by the memory of green eyes, and cinnamon-coloured freckles. 

…

Jared checked his mailbox, as he jostled the bag of groceries on his hip, pulled out several envelopes, held them between his teeth as he locked his mailbox and made his way to his apartment. He dropped the mail down onto the kitchen table along with the bread and milk. Jared listened to his messages as he undid his tie, his top button, and made a mental note to call his mother back as he flicked through his mail. The third one looked personal, handwritten, and familiar. 

He slit open the envelope and pulled out an invitation, to the Mill Valley Library’s First Friday of the Month Event.

_Naked Truth: What is Love?_

Jared read the card for the second time, looked at the envelope and pulled out his wallet for the letter he’d received from Jensen, and for a moment hope swelled until he noticed that the handwriting was different, though familiar. Jared remembered where he’d seen it, on his morning coffee receipts, and took a moment to ponder where Mrs Johnson had gotten his address. 

He stuck the invitation on the refrigerator and opened the rest of his mail, before putting the groceries away. Saturday morning he was meeting with the realtor to sign the paperwork that would finally put his grandmother’s house on the market, he’d be in Mill Valley; it wouldn’t hurt to drive down there a day early, and if meant he got to see Jensen… 

That Friday, Jared left work at lunchtime, went home and showered, dressed in dark-blue jeans, and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He packed an overnight bag, and made his way downstairs to the car, his headache lessening as he hit the Golden Gate Bridge. He arrived at his grandmother’s house a little before five. 

His grandmother’s house was just how he’d left it, minus the dust, the cleaners having received his message and buying in milk and coffee. He thought about making himself a cup, but decided instead to walk into town for one of Mrs Johnson’s macchiatos. Mrs Johnson was just locking up as Jared arrived

“Sorry dear,” Mrs Johnson said, checking the door was locked and turning to face Jared. 

“Closing early?” Jared asked. 

“It’s the first Friday of the month,” Mrs Johnson said by way of explanation. 

“The library?” Jared said.

“Wouldn’t want to miss it,” Mrs Johnson said patting Jared on the arm. “Escort an old lady would you?” Mrs Johnson smiled, and hooked her arm through Jared’s without waiting for an answer. 

The library was packed; it looked like the whole town had turned out. Jared found a quiet spot near the back, by the door, as he scanned the crowd for a sign of Jensen, sucked in a breath when he saw him seated in the front row, nervously fingering a sheet of paper. The event already having started. 

Jared was tempted to go over and say hello, when someone made their way to front and began to speak. 

It seemed everyone had their own idea of what love was, from chemistry, friendship, and intimacy, to commitment. There was talk of the love for family, friends, country, neighbour, God, and even the family pet. 

He checked his watch as Mrs Johnson, nudged him with her elbow. Jared looked up to see Jensen standing at the front of the room, nervous as he adjusted his glasses, shuffled the papers in his hand and coughed. Jensen looked up and caught sight of Jared, surprise flushing his face crimson, as he held Jared’s gaze for a moment, and the room became fraught with tension. 

Jared swallowed, held his breath, as Jensen looked away, folded the paper, and put it in his pocket, as Jared leaned forward slightly, needing to be closer.

“You know that thing you do when you catch each other’s eye, but you instantly look away because what they’re not saying speaks volumes, and you’re desperately hoping no one else has noticed?” Jensen said, as several pairs of eyes turned to look at Jared. Mrs Polanski for one, then Tony, and someone Jared couldn’t name. 

Jared released the breath he was holding, as Jensen continued. 

“That moment when your heart rate spikes, and your breath comes in shorter bursts that you have to remind yourself to control, to slow down. And you suddenly have to make yourself listen to whatever the person next to you is saying because your entire being is attuned to _that one person’s_ every movement,” Jensen said, as Jared walked even closer.

“So attuned you know they’re close because you can hear the hitch in their breath, and you know they’re doing the exact same thing that you’re doing,” Jensen said, as he sucked in a breath. 

“It’s like you’re in two different worlds," Jensen continued, intense; impassioned "The one that’s buzzing with conversation and movement, the jostle of bodies, or the rustle of pages. But underneath all that there’s this whole other world of _them_. The whisper of their clothes as they move, the smell of their cologne when they step passed your workstation, the sound of their voice. The shallow breaths they take as they edge ever closer, never looking at you or speaking directly to you, yet everything about them is reaching toward you.”

Jensen looked directly at Jared. “And then boom!” Jensen said. “You look when you meant to look away, and you catch whatever message you know you should run from, but you can’t because you looked, and suddenly everything stops and you forget the words you were going to say. And everything else is a footnote between fingers touching, gliding, learning, and then you know. You know what they say when they don’t speak, and you can never not know it because…” Jensen trailed off as Jared neared the front of the room, stared at Jensen, as Jensen swallowed, and stared back.

Someone coughed, breaking the silence, as Jared took hold of Jensen’s hand and pulled, half dragged him across the room, Jared stepping behind the first row of stacks, taking Jensen with him. 

Jared breathed in through his nose, as he pressed Jensen up against the stack, hands coming up to frame Jensen’s face. Fingertips pushing into Jensen’s hair as Jared lowered his head, almost forcing Jensen onto his toes as he dragged him closer, and slanted his mouth over Jensen’s. 

“I’ve missed you,” Jared said between kisses, opening his mouth and pushing in with his tongue, taking back the final inch of space that separated him from Jensen.

Jensen groaned, torn between wanting the kiss to continue and knowing they were in a public place, surrounded by people. He lingered, swiped his tongue over Jared’s bottom lip, before sucking into his mouth, worrying it with his teeth and felt, then heard Jared groan. 

“I’ve missed you too,” Jensen said, finally dragging his mouth free, and sucking in much-needed air. He knew he’d have to step from behind the stacks at some point, dreaded the fact that all eyes would be on them. He took a deep breath, and stepped out, surprised to see the room almost empty. Mrs Johnson shooing the last few stragglers through the door as Jared followed behind Jensen. Mrs Johnson taking a moment to whisper her thanks to Mr Peterson from the antique store for his help in supplying Jared’s address. 

“Huh!” Jared said.

“We should talk,” Jensen replied, even though talk was the last thing on his mind as he looked at Jared, his lips swollen, cheeks stained red, and eyes dark with arousal. 

“Not here,” Jared said, hoping for someplace more private despite the fact that everyone had now left. 

Jensen nodded, twining his fingers through Jared’s, as Jared took his hand, Jared’s thumb stroking over Jensen’s knuckles. 

“We could go to mine,” Jared said, realising for the first time that he hadn’t referred to it as his grandmother’s house. Then thinking it wouldn’t be such a good idea, it being practically empty and unlived in, might scare Jensen away, remind him of the fact that Jared left. 

Jensen shook his head, needing to be on familiar ground. “My place would be better,” Jensen said, as Jared followed him out of the library and waited for Jensen to lock up. Falling into step with each other, as they walked hand in hand to Jensen’s house. 

Jensen unlocked the door, conscious of Jared behind him. Jared’s taller frame taking up most of the small entranceway, as Jensen made his way down the hall to the kitchen. 

“Drink?” Jensen asked. 

“Coffee would be good,” Jared replied, and waited as Jensen prepared the percolator, coffee spilling out onto the counter as Jensen’s hand shook slightly. 

Jared walked over to where Jensen was standing, his back to Jared, and took the coffee pot from Jensen’s hand, placed it down by the percolator, and braced his hands on the counter, either side of Jensen. “We can make this work,” Jared whispered, thinking over the past few weeks, and how much he’d missed Jensen, and Mill Valley, and its pace of life. 

Jensen turned around, slowly, into the circle of Jared’s arms and looked up, raised his hands to Jared’s shoulders, higher, fingers twining in the hair at Jared’s nape as Jared leaned down to rest his forehead against Jensen’s. Jared’s gaze intense as he glanced toward Jensen’s lips. 

“Yeah?” Jensen said, as Jared dipped his head, brushed his lips across Jensen’s cheek, and breathed him in. 

“Yeah, if you want to that is?” Jared said, and held his breath, waited for Jensen. 

“Stay,” Jensen said, voice hushed, quiet, as he turned his head to capture Jared’s mouth in a searing kiss, all tongue and teeth, biting Jared’s bottom lip, tongue snaking forward to soothe the sting. 

Jared was unsure whether Jensen was asking him to stay the night, or in Mill Valley, but then Jensen took his hand, led him from the kitchen to the stairs, unbuttoning his shirt in one hand, pulling Jared along with the other. 

Jared unbuckled his belt as he reached the top of the stairs, almost tripped on Jensen’s shirt as Jensen threw it to the floor. He toed off a shoe as they made their way down the hall. The other shoe, as Jensen tugged at the button on his own jeans. Jensen pulling Jared into the bedroom, crowding into Jared’s space as he turned around, bare-chested, jeans riding low against his hips.

Jared watched Jensen, his breath catching in his throat as Jensen slid down his zipper and shoved at his jeans, and shorts until they bunched around his ankles. 

“Christ,” Jared hissed, as his mouth fought to give shape to the numerous curses his brain came up with at the sight of Jensen. He let his gaze wander across Jensen’s broad shoulders, his collarbone and the smattering of freckles that dotted his chest. Jared wanted to taste every one of them. He wet his lips, tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat and groaned as Jensen met him half way. He watched as Jensen’s chin came up, plump lips parted, and Jensen crowded into Jared’s space. 

“Please,” Jensen whispered, his hand going to Jared’s jeans, tugging at the buttons, in an effort to uncover skin, one by one until he could part the material, pushed his hand into Jared’s shorts to free his cock, and dropped to his knees.

Jared felt the vibration of Jensen’s breath against his cock, heard Jensen whisper his name, a second before he wrapped his lips around Jared’s length, cupped his ass cheeks and pulled him forward, deeper into the warmth of his mouth. 

“Yes,” Jared hissed, his head thrown back, connecting with the door behind him as he thrust up, fingers carding through short, spikes of hair as he held Jensen there, still, as he thrust into Jensen’s mouth. 

Jared increased the pace as Jensen tightened his lips around him, dug his fingers into Jared’s hips, whispered Jared’s name a second time as Jared withdrew his cock, fisted himself against plump lips as Jensen looked up, and smiled. 

Jared looked down at Jensen, almost came at the sight of him, green eyes dark with arousal, mouth open, lips wet, and mouth curved around a smile as he leaned forward. Jensen licked a stripe along the length of Jared’s cock, wrapped his tongue around the ridge, and over the head before sucking hard, taking Jared back into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Jared cursed, not wanting to come, not yet, needing to be inside Jensen, but not wanting this pleasure to end. He breathed in, harsh and ragged, his hand going to Jensen’s cheek urging him up, until Jensen was standing, facing Jared. “Fuck,” Jared said again, as he leaned in and kissed Jensen, tongue teasing, tasting just for a moment, then Jared inched forward, forcing Jensen back a step, and another, all the way to the bed, before pushing Jensen down. 

Jared was harder than he’d been in his life, more turned on than he could ever remember as he watched Jensen come up on to his elbows to stare back at Jared. He knew this could never be another one-time thing. He wanted more, more of this, of them, together, and not just as they were now; but talking, laughing, taking Jensen his morning coffee, looking up from a book to catch Jensen staring, seeing his cheeks blush. Holding hands as they made their way home. He wanted everything and always, oh, god; Jared wanted Jensen. 

“So beautiful,” Jared said, as he made a space for himself between Jensen’s thighs. Jensen’s hands resting against Jared’s chest, fingers splayed as he slid them up around Jared’s neck, Jensen’s cock hard and wet as it bumped up against Jared’s. 

Jared brushed his lips against Jensen’s, soft, as Jensen groaned, and deepened the kiss, pressed in, tongue seeking and finding Jared’s. Slid his hands around Jared’s waist, over the dip and swell to cup Jared’s ass cheeks, fingers pressing, massaging against muscle, as he rocked Jared forward and back, groaned into Jared’s mouth as Jared’s cock slid against his own. 

Jared eased back, stared at Jensen, held Jensen’s gaze, as Jensen rocked him forward again, slow and easy. Jared lowered his eyes to where their cocks were aligned, sliding up against the other and groaned, took a moment just to feel. 

“Spread your legs,” Jared urged, as Jensen did just that. Jared crowded in, slid his hand up Jensen’s cock, took a moment to gather the wetness there before pressing up behind Jensen’s balls, easing a finger in, all the way before sliding back out, and adding a second; praising Jensen as Jensen spread his legs wider and pushed down to meet the third. 

Jared didn’t think he could get any harder, but seeing Jensen, legs spread, head thrown back, as he stretched around Jared’s fingers, made him painfully hard. He groaned, cock leaking pre come into the sheet beneath him as he withdrew his fingers and sank down between the hair-roughened strength of Jensen’s spread thighs. Pressed in, deeper, and felt Jensen’s fingers dig into his ass cheeks, bringing Jared closer. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Jared praised, and thrust in, slow and easy, pulled out all the way to the head, only to push back in. He reached for Jensen’s cock, and found Jensen’s hand already there, fingers wrapped around his own length, stroking himself, slow and steady, a match for Jared’s rhythm. 

Jared withdrew, all the way, and thrust back in deep; his balls pressed tight to Jensen’s ass, he circled his hips, felt Jensen’s muscles tighten around his cock and groaned, approvingly. Repeated the motion, slow, steady and again, as he gripped Jensen’s hips hard and thrust up; withdrew, dragging over Jensen’s sweet spot, once, twice, and heard Jensen moan his name. 

“Jared,” Jensen gasped, as Jared repeated the motion; harder this time, once, and again, as Jensen continued to fist himself, crying out as he shot thick, ropey strands of come over his hand and Jared’s stomach. Jared gripped tight to Jensen’s hips as his own orgasm struck white and hot. He never wanted to let go of Jensen again.

…

The _for sale_ sign went up a month later, Jared taking a step back, as Jensen hammered it into the ground. 

“You’re sure,” Jared said, sliding his arm around Jensen’s waist, and pulling him in. 

Jensen leaned into Jared’s side and took a deep breath as his house was put up for sale, and nodded. “Yours is bigger, and closer to the library.”

“Ours,” Jared said, no longer referring to the house as his grandmother’s, it was his, his and Jensen’s. 

No longer just a house.

It was home.


End file.
